


An unlikely friendship of a Human and a Romulan

by ElementsOfCurie



Category: Star Trek: Picard
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Softeness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-02-23 09:56:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23809753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElementsOfCurie/pseuds/ElementsOfCurie
Summary: Picard and Laris's friendship is close and evidently one that is impenetrable. Everyone needs a friend and the Romulan has found a true friend in the Admiral.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 15





	An unlikely friendship of a Human and a Romulan

When Laris first came to Earth, she rarely left the Chateau. It was difficult for her to integrate herself into a society such a polar opposite from her own and she watched Zhaban practically flourish.

He had always reeked of harmlessness and despite his heritage, the locals seemed to like him after a few months. Laris, on the other hand, was not met so kindly.

Often, Picard would lightly suggest that she try to be less hostile. 

Eventually, the man got tired of seeing the Romulan holed up in the back rooms, surrounded by paperwork, listening stations and various notes about conspiracies.

Despite looking frail, he was strong, strong enough to drag her from the room and gently shove her to her room.

"Get yourself dressed nicely, I'm taking you to lunch at one of my favourite cafés."

Before she even had time to protest, he shut the door and waited, listening to her mumblings in her native tongue as she moved about, looking out something suitable.

An hour later, they were approaching the village, arm in arm. The old man had been blundering on and on about various nothings and Laris pretended to listen, something she was growing very adept at.

The Admiral continued to ramble until he realised Laris had stopped and stood at the entrance, clutching his arm tight.

"I am not going in there."

"Yes, you are. My dear, there is nothing to fear-"

He fell silent when he had a glare thrown his way.

"I do not fear anyone or anything. I just refuse-"

It was her turn to fall silent, shock crossing her face when she heard the man laugh. There she stood, trying to be defiant and he was laughing at her.

"Laris, just come along."

Reluctantly, she moved forward. 

At passing glance, anyone would have thought the Admiral had a Vulcan on his arm, that was until the sun caught that faint, green tinge in her skin, skin that had paled slightly due to months of being hidden away inside.

"Admiral-"

"Jean-Luc, please, Laris. There is no need for formalities anymore."

A pause, to roll her eyes and sigh heavily before she continued.

"Admiral, I don't need lunch....I ate-"

The man had cut her off once more by dragging her towards a stand that held books. The seller stared in disbelief, and disgust, at the woman but kept his mouth shut due to the presence of the Admiral, whom began to babble on about the various books that lay before them as he grabbed some up.

To distract herself, Laris looked down at the display, scanning each cover until something took her interest. 

'War of the Worlds' H.G Wells.

The cover was white with what seemed to be a printed drawing of some machine like creature, tendrils extending from its body, attacking a small village. 

The Admiral caught her admiring the book and smiled, snatching it up.

"Good, now you have something to read during lunch."

"Admiral, I-"

It was too late. The item was bought and paid for and she was being led down the streets again, past various stalls and small shops, some that gave the finest aromas or had the sweetest music pouring from its doors. Alas, they were not the destination of today.

Another fifteen minutes and they arrived to a small, old-fashioned tea shop.

“This, is the last tea shop in this region that does everything by hand.”

A small frown formed and she tilted her head.

“You too prefer the makings of manual labour?”

“Mm, not...necessarily...but I do enjoy proper tea more than replicated....”

Then silence fell as they took their seats. Her book was handed to her and he opened his own, only stopping to order. 

“Two Earl Greys and...Oh, a strawberry tart each.”

The cashier nodded and disappeared to prepare this order, leaving the two to their own devices.

It gave Laris some time to asses this situation presented to her. 

“Admiral?”

Silence, the man staring at the pages of his book.

“Admiral....”

Still, no reply. Laris sighed heavily, clearing her throat.

“Jean-Luc?”

“Yes?”

Looking up, he smiled at the stone-faced woman, studying her expression with great delight.

“What is this?”

“Lunch.”  
“No, I mean...this...”

“A new ritual for you. Once a week, we shall come here, just you and I, read one chapter of our book and enjoy tea and a tart. Then we will return home. We will keep this up until....you’re comfortable....”

His eyes fell to her still tense shoulders, then to hands that shook, though to an untrained eye they barely moved, Picard was beginning to learn more about this woman. He knew that she, like most Romulans, was paranoid, perhaps even more so now that she and her husband had fled the Tal’Shiar. She was paranoid and tetchy, for want of a better word, and he couldn’t blame her. It was already difficult to have lost her entire culture in one, fast setting but now to be indoctrinated into a new culture that seemed so reluctant to take her on based on the shape of her ears.

Yes, the locals had a right to mistrust Romulans but not this Romulan. He had seen a side to Laris that not many had. The woman was attentive, she had patched up many workers in absence of Beverly and had gone as far as to learn three new languages to be able to assist. The intelligence this woman held was like no other, she would have made a fine Starfleet officer had it not been for her unfortunate heritage. A genius. And behind those watchful eyes that studied everything with scrutiny was care. Endless care and warmth. 

Laris nodded, offering a weak smile. 

Their tea arrived, along with their tarts and they read. Relishing each other’s silent company. And it became a weekly routine, as promise. 

It was their sixth or seventh time, Picard was surprised when Laris piped up, giving their order for him as she had been busied with talking to another customer leaving. 

He waited several moments before bringing it up.

“You ordered....”

“Yes, I did...”

A smile touched her lips and she looked to him, her eyes shining with an unfamiliar pride. Everyday for the past two weeks she had been out in the fields, gathering all she needed for the inventory – This being her job for many, many reasons Jean -Luc Picard wouldn’t even begin to discuss. Laris was in charge of inventory and trade, that was final.

The Admiral returned the smile, eyeing her curiously. 

Today, she swept her hair back, pinning some strands back so her ears, pointed and proud today, were no longer hidden and she wore a small brooch, one he recognised to be a symbol of her family, the brooch pinned delicately to an old shirt, one he recognised to be merchandise of a band called ‘Pink Floyd', Laris had taken to their music as of late.

Satisfied, he turned to his book, looking up every now and then to watch Laris, who was lost in her own little world, tapping her foot in time to the music, a content smile on her lips.

It seemed ludicrous to imagine it, but before him he saw a relaxed Romulan, but not just any Romulan, he saw Laris. Laris, a woman who had weapons hidden in every three-square inches and had a literal screaming match with him over security measures – A match she won, much to his dismay -, was relaxed...in public.

Feeling his watchful eyes on her, Laris looked up, her brows knitted together in confusion. He smiled and she mirrored him, once again to his utter surprise. The smile suited her... it warmed her face.

“Perhaps, next week-"

“I should take Zhaban?”

It was as if she could read minds.

Chuckling softly, he nods and leans forward, squinting a little as she studied her. 

In this light, he could see that healthy green tinge was returning to her face and she certainly appeared healthier than she had in the past few weeks. It made his heart swell happily. A hand reached out and he gently patted her knee, giving it a soft squeeze before returning to his book.

Laris had settled in well and she was certainly fitting in well, seamlessly almost.

There they sat, two friends, enjoying one another's silent company in perpetual bliss.


End file.
